THE ROCK-AND-ROLL REFUGEE "I tell you, my fuend!" Obadiah cried, waving his hands in the air. "You are fine until you are in a bar and drinking one or two beers, and then a woman with big buttocks walks by, and-oh my God!" At the home of Malek' s cousin Walid, we were served a huge quantity of good food-chapati bread, fued fish, curried- chicken stew, and lamb-and-egg pie. M- terward, over small cups of strong coffee, I asked Malek to tell me more about the controversy in his life. He turned serious, and we scooted back a little from the circle of men seated on a thin rug. In a low voice, he told me that when Tanza- nia invaded Uganda to unseat Idi Amin, in 1978-79, he had entered the Army and become a captain in the military police. He received training in Israel and Cuba and then participated in the campaign. In its late stages, he was put in charge of some important prisoners. But, in what sounded like an admission of guilt, he saId, "I made an arrangement and they escaped." The Tanzanian Army charged him with corruption. A United Nations inquiry, however, determined that the escapees were political prisoners who had been unfairly held, and arranged for Malek to receive asylum in Kenya. That was how he and his family had come to live in Mombasa, though Tan- zania was home. This tale of exile and redemption had an epic quality that made Western life, or my life, seem humdrum. He filled in more details later, in the courtyard of our hotel, but soon became distracted by a flirtation with the waitress, and by the drinks she brought. When mosqui- toes started to get bad, Bradford and I turned in. In the morning, I asked Malek how he'd done "Do you know the word hanjam, Mr. T eddy?" I did not. "It means a lot of sweet nothing. It can also mean lots of work but no pay. You understand?" " I k " t means you struc out. "'\T f" 1. es. M WALIMU, the convoy leader, dis- pelled Malek's hope of a pro- longed stay in Shinyanga by insisting that we leave by the following afternoon. Dusk found us in a market town called Kahama, whose dirt square was filled completely with about twenty over- nighting trucks. A fierce old man wield- ing a bow and arrow and a receipt book approached, eying me suspiciously. He was the askari, or night guard, of the square, and his services were compulsory. Bradford and Malek anted up. Then, af- ter some searching, Bradford, Malek, and I secured the usual sort of lodging, and within a couple of hours Bradford and I were seated in the usual sort of bar. This one was swarming with mosqui- toes. It was off a side street near our lodg- ing and was lighted with blue fluorescent bulbs. There was a bartender, whose bar was secured against robbers by bar-to- ceiling bars, and there were two wait- resses, who wore flowing blue muumuus and, over their heads, the lovely beaded scarves known locally as kikwembe. They did not have much to do; we were about the only customers. We sat on low couches around the far, dark end of the room and stretched out our legs around low tables in front of us. For the first time, we were able to order Primus, the Rwandan beer whose bottles we were hauling. It cost nearly as much as our room, and was quite strong As our wait- ress went through the serving ritual, she bent forward. Underneath the muumuu she wore nothing. Bradford was characteristically quiet, and things were starting to feel a bit dull, when Malek entered with Sammy. Malek's appearance somehow electrified the room. It put me in mind of his earlier incarnation as a rock and roller. Within moments, he had made Christina, our waitress, smile, blush, and then burst out laughing with some little remark. He sat down. She returned with a drink for him. He talked to her some more. "1 am dis- cussing with her how much I will teach her sexually," he informed me. Chris- tina's English was not so good, so he re- peated the quip in Kisukuma, and she cracked up again. "She already loves you very much," he continued, to me. "She wants to do anything you want. I have told her that you are afraId of AIDS, and that she must just suck. She says fine." Christina did not appear to have followed this, which was O.K. with me. Malek and the others had by now be- come skilled at running interference for me with the women in bars. They ex- plained what I felt they had come to be- lieve-that I was overly concerned WIth AIDS-and they told the women not to take it personally, because this was a typi- cal mzungu fear. Sometimes I would buy drmks for the women to show that it was nothing personal. Outside, I asked Malek about exactly {ill [;J [? lP )Y \ If OJ'lL Y Yo II CCf/[p li VE oFF IT! \ K A MAGvRKA